Get extra lift from AOPA. Start your free membership trial today! Click here

Learning Experiences

Small airplane, large bird

Student makes an emergency landing--for real

On a nice fall afternoon in November 2005, I was enjoying another routine solo in a Cessna 152 in the practice area between Sanford-Lee County Regional Airport and Siler City Municipal in North Carolina. I had soloed in July, so I felt very comfortable. At Siler City I did a normal landing, full stop, taxied back, and departed to the east. The airport staff is always friendly, and said, "Come back now." I practiced some ground reference maneuvers as the visibility was terrific.

When I was seven miles west of Sanford-Lee County, I listened to the automated weather observation system (AWOS). The winds were favoring Runway 3. Then I switched to the common traffic advisory frequency. One airplane was turning crosswind, and a second was about to depart on Runway 3. I announced that I was five miles west, inbound for Runway 3.

As I turned to enter the downwind leg, a flock of birds flew up in front of me. They were large, and there were about five of them right in front of me. There were more to the right, and I turned left in an effort to dodge them. The one on the far left stayed left with me. It looked like a buzzard. I saw and felt it hit the left wing of the airplane. There was a loud thud, and the airplane shook. The last time that I saw that bird, it was hitting the leading edge of the left wing just above the wing strut. Then it fell toward the engine.

The airplane felt like it was going to fall out of the sky. It wallowed. It seemed as if it was going to stall, spin, or just drop out. I leveled the wings and looked at the left wing. I could see metal curled up and hanging out of the wing. I announced that I had a bird strike and was inbound to land on Runway 3. I actually did experience a brief moment of panic and realized that I had a to make a real emergency landing. I also realized that the left wing was not aerodynamic anymore. I remembered a ground school class at the Wings of Carolina Flying Club, in which the instructor explained that if you get ice on the wings they are no longer efficient airfoils; if this ever happened, he suggested that you fly level, making smooth and gentle turns, to avoid a stall and spin. I decided to apply that guidance to my situation. The club is very safety oriented and hosts safety seminars, encouraging us to attend as many as we can. I had just been to an AOPA Air Safety Seminar in Asheboro, and the speaker talked about low and slow, stall and spin, and how to avoid it on takeoff and landing.

I had to feel and sense the airplane to keep it level and flying as smoothly as I could. I felt like I was flying a brick.

I went through my emergency checklist, using the ABCDE mnemonic: I kept up the airspeed. The runway in use was in sight: best field. I did my cockpit check. The engine was still running and had fuel flowing to it. The inside of the airplane was OK.

Dialogue: I announced that I was downwind for Runway 3, had experienced a bird strike, the airplane was not flying well, and that I was trying to make the airport. Since I was already communicating on this frequency, I stayed with it and focused on flying the airplane.

Emergency exit: I decided to worry about the door latch later.

I stayed close to the airport, trying to fly as normal a pattern as possible. I went down the landing checklist: mixture rich, carb heat on, trim to land, rpm 2,000, keep the sight picture correct. Opposite the numbers, I reduced power to 1,500 rpm and added 10 degrees of flaps. The airplane dropped and waddled again and slowed down. I quickly added power to keep the Cessna flying. Then I made the turn to base as slowly, smoothly, and as wings-level and flat as I could. It still waddled. I kept turning gently to final and kept power in at 1,800 as I was down to 600 feet. The controls felt really mushy.

I announced I was on final, and that I did not know if I was going to make the runway. I was sure hoping that someone was listening. I had considered changing to the emergency frequency of 121.5 MHz, but since I had already been on the CTAF and had conversations with the other pilots and the frequency is monitored at the FBO, I decided to focus on flying the damaged airplane.

My sight picture on final looked OK. I was lined up with the centerline with a lot of right control inputs. I put a little right slip on it as if there were a crosswind. I kept pushing the right wing down. I kept the rpm up and the airspeed was stable at 65 kt. The airplane was fighting me and wallowing some. Trying to stay on the centerline, I added some more slip to the right. I realized that this was it--there would be no go-around.

I went through the cockpit check one last time. I waited until the runway was made as I crossed from grass to asphalt at the end lights to add the 20 degrees of flaps, like the simulated emergencies that I had practiced. I pulled the throttle back and slowed to a low, slow, full-stall landing. I felt the left main wheel touch. I thought I felt the right main. I was fighting the airplane. It was pulling to the left. I felt the nosewheel touch.

Then the airplane waddled worse and tried to go left. I think I tried to brake. I was fighting it, but it pulled left off the runway onto the grass. It had rained heavily, the grass was slick, and it was all downhill from there--literally. The airplane rolled down the hill into the ditch and flipped over. Everything stopped. I was hanging upside down in my seat. Water or gas was running down the windows. I saw that I had forgotten to unlatch my door, so I popped it first, then unfastened my seatbelt and tried not to hit my head. I crawled out onto the wing, then went back to turn off the master and magneto switches and remove the key. I could not reach the fuel switch. The prop was bent.

After they towed the airplane to the hangar, I saw a big dent the size of a turkey in the leading edge, torn metal, and a gaping hole in the left wing. I was glad that I had not seen it while flying.

I have been asked if I would do it differently: land faster, brake or not brake. If I had landed faster, I think the airplane would have flipped. Not braking would have been better, especially if the right wing and wheel were not completely down--which eyewitnesses indicated might have been the case. And I should have opened the door latch just before landing.

I barely had a scratch. The eyewitnesses said they were amazed that I landed it at all. The FAA said that I was flying a brick, and that I did about the best that I could have. And I got to tell my instructors, Gene Weaver and Betsy McCracken, that the things they taught me saved my life, and thanked them.

By Margaret Moore

"Learning Experiences" is presented to enhance safety by providing a forum for students and pilots to learn from the experiences of others. It is intended to provoke thought and discussion, acknowledging that actions taken by the authors were not necessarily the best choices under the circumstances. We encourage you to discuss any questions you have about a particular scenario with your flight instructor.

Related Articles